


For a Touch...

by remnantmachine



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble, Implied Past Abuse, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remnantmachine/pseuds/remnantmachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takao is always the one to start things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For a Touch...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=30699961) wonderful artwork, and written way too quickly to make coherent sense.   
> Unbeta'd and first attempt at KuroBasu fandom.

His hand slides up Mirdoriama's shirt and pushes against the warm skin underneath until Takao can feel the long glide of Midorima's spine.

"Do you have to be so ridiculously forward all the time?" Midorima asks calmly, as if Takao's left hand _isn't_ rubbing small circles against his skin. It's always like this. They embrace, they hold, and then Takao takes a leap and pushes forward onto the never-moving rock which is Midorima until the other gets fed up and pushes away.

Takao laughs a little and pulls his teammate forward with his other hand to rest their foreheads together. "If I didn't, where would we be?" A dark whisper in his mind slides 'nowhere' between his thoughts and Takao has to fight to keep the old emotions down.

Midorima's hands clench tight in his jersey; they pull the fabric tight against his sides. Takao barely dares to breath. Even after all this time, Midorima is still so skittish, so shy, despite his precise movements and conceited speech. Over half the time Midorima still shuts down and runs away when Takao touches him... and the other times aren't much better. Yet, hopefully.

A line draws itself slowly between bright eyes. Midorima pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard enough to turn the normally pink skin white.

Then, so slowly it feels like a dream, Midorima drops one hand to glide it under Takao's jersey. Midorima has such a look of concentration on his face Takao almost laughs. 

He turns it into a kiss at the last moment - pushing forward, rolling their foreheads until their mouths line up, and releasing something too close to a sob to be comfortable against Midorima's mouth. 

Midorima freezes, but it's okay, because he still _started_ something and Takao can't contain himself enough to keep from shattering the moment. He pulls Midorima close enough to feel the other's heartbeat through the thin fabric of their jerseys and showers light kisses across the sharp face before him.

After only a few moments of frozen silence, Midorima huffs and pushes Takao away. "Stop."

Takao smiles and tugs at Midorima's jersey top playfully one last time as he pulls his hands back to himself. "Okay." Because it is.


End file.
